War is an Awful Game
by JForward
Summary: Post Age Of Ultron fic. Pietro survived - just about - but his recovery is leaving a lot to be desired, both for him and for the Avengers. It's not easy recovering from that kind of event.
1. Chapter 1

_If this is death, I want a refund._ Wasn't dying supposed to take the pain away? But it wasn't going to happen, it seemed. The pain had vanished, at first. Pietro had known it was too late as he came to a stop, a moment too soon, bullets piercing and settling in the skin. Blood flowed and he could taste it. Had to go for the corny last words, though. It was all his scrabbled brain could think of. Then darkness had descended like a heavy cloud, giving him just the feeling of a stuttering heart and legs giving way before it swallowed him. But there was no tunnel. No great power swept over him. He just felt cold. Like floating in an abyss.

Then the pain came _back._ Subtle, not nearly as bad as it had been at first, building until he was aware of an agony that filled his chest, spotting his arms and legs. The darkness was all around. Was this death? Was this a punishment? Pietro knew he'd done great wrongs, but he'd done them thinking they were good at the time. He'd only wanted to protect people. To make things better. So now was his reward to float in this empty, dark space, feeling the remnant pain of the wounds that had killed him? _Wanda will be disappointed._

Voices. Was that right? So faint. So distant. Pietro wanted to move towards them, but even though he felt the pain, he could see no body of his own. No way to get to them. Must be the other dead, right? Trapped here too. Maybe it was a sort of purgatory and he was meant to be here until his sins had been paid off… but … those voices sounded familiar.  
 _"I can't believe he managed to hang on. That shouldn't be possible."  
"Kid's metabolism's incredible. That little bit of healing he managed is why he's still here._"  
Impossible. They sounded like … Stark? Stark and Rogers. Captain America and Iron Man. Once his enemies. Had they died? Sadness spiked in his heart, adding to the more physical pain.  
 _"You see that, Steve? Looks like he's even stronger than we expected. I think there's a chance, after all."  
"It's a small chance."  
"Aren't all of us?" _

Then the voices faded and Pietro felt loneliness crawling back into the space again, left to wonder whether they had died too, despite everything.  
 _Did I fuck it all up again?_


	2. Chapter 2

If Vision hadn't retrieved Wanda, she probably would've stayed with the main body of Ultron until the place evaporated and her with it. After all, she'd felt her brother _die._ The manipulation she'd gone under to give her all those great abilities had also influenced the natural twin connection with Pietro; sometimes they shared dreams, and often they were aware of where the other was or how they were feeling. It was how Pietro had known to save her from the electrocution arrow that time; how she'd known when to rescue him countless times. With that gone, it felt like a chunk of her had been ripped out. What was the point of being alive as half a person?

But when they got onto SHIELD's flying ship, nobody let her near his body. Nobody let her see him. Clint was the first to find her properly, not even saying anything, just folding her into his arms and clutching her as she sobbed. He was bloody and aching and he'd just seen Pietro wheeled away, but he knew she couldn't be allowed near him, not like this.  
"He saved me." Clint told her, quietly, but fiercely. "And a little boy. He saved our lives. That kid got to go back to his mom." Giving her a slight squeeze, the archer leant back a little, meeting her eyes. "He went down a hero. I promise."

The helicarrier had a hell of time trying to figure what to do with the immense amount of displaced Sokovians it now had to deal with. That was for Fury to figure out with the government. While the ship headed toward the nearest safe land, Tony made his way over to Clint and Wanda. They both looked up, a hard edge in Clint's eyes, not sure what Tony was going to say and whether he would like it. All of them were filthy, bruised and bleeding, Tony maybe not as much as the others, with a metal suit on most of the time. But now he was back in his civilian clothes.

"Wanda." Her pale eyes looked up to his. "I'm sorry." The problem was that, even when Tony meant something, it tended to sound sarcastic. Wanda didn't reply, a broken look in her eyes.  
"Listen, it's probably the worst time. But I think I need to make an offer to you." His own eyes went down to his hands, then back up to her. "Things are changing. The Avengers are changing. And I think we're going to need someone like you on our team. We can't replace your brother, and I don't blame you if you blame _us_ for that. But the offer's there. You think about it, alright?"

When Wanda didn't reply, Tony went off to find something else to do. Something to work on. Vision had destroyed the last part of Ultron. The war was over. They could rest, now. Rest…

They'd lost Banner. They'd really lost Pietro. A lot of them had lost hope. It wasn't that surprising that things would change.  
Wanda sat quietly, curled up to Clint, just wanting her brother back.

There were a lot dead, despite all the efforts of the Avengers to get everyone out in time, to protect them all. Bodies laid out, moved around, sobbing people with their family members. Mothers, fathers, children… a few laid alone. Some families. But thankfully there were far more alive than dead. And at the end, a pale shape with pale hair, wearing blue and soaked in red. Medical officers moved among everyone, checking to do what they could. Various bits of equipment – some modified version of JARVIS supplied by Tony in the past – were checking over everyone there. And it just so happened that one of those scans caught Pietro in passing. Steve was making his way down the ship, still feeling numb, trying to comfort people who had spent so long hating him…

Then someone shouted and there was a flurry of medical officers over Pietro's body. Rushing the last handful of feet, Steve came to a stop, staring.  
"What's going on?" he asked, alarmed.  
"Life signal." One of the men said, as they checked Pietro's breathing, investigated him. "Very weak."  
"Son of a bitch." Steve whispered, then grinned, "Quick, then, quick! Get him to medical! Now! I'm not losing that fast asshole. Not today." He was impressed with the efficiency of the team as he followed the shape, whizzing away towards the incredible medical bay up above. If there was any chance that Pietro would live – it would be found here.


End file.
